Sex With Men...My Perspective
There's no way I can define
the blurring lines between each synapse in my mind.
I caused 'em so much dread,
splaying my legs like butter on bread,
keeping it wicked and tricky
and makin' their fingers get sticky with
my idea of what 42 means in my head-
What have I said about it?
All I really wanted was a good handful of tit-
when there were only pecks,
I had to check and check
again, again, again in my mind.
What's so philosophical about sex?
Everything, you dimwit.
Think about it.
Soft places, hard places, I liked it all-
their orgasming faces made me feel anything but small,
but I realized that this wasn't my final call,
I felt anything but goddamn enthralled.
What's in it for me?
When my mind pictures anything but what I see,
How could I involve myself in something so shaky?
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